A knock at the door startled her out of her musing.
"Housekeeping!"
Arabella hurried over to the door and opened it a crack. "I'll be out in just a little bit."
After a long, hot shower, Arabella loaded the car and continued her journey to Cincinnati. Freezing while gassing up, she went into the truck stop and came out with a hooded sweatshirt that said HORSIN' AROUND IN KENTUCKY. The horse had a big smile, showing off buck teeth and a Mohawk. But, hey, it was ten dollars and it did the job. A matching pair of sweatpants replaced her shorts. She traded in her flip-flops for cheap green gym shoes decorated with yellow sunflowers. After grabbing bags of random snacks, a bottle of water, and a giant Mountain Dew, she returned to the Mini Cooper and hit the road.
Arabella cranked up the radio, bobbed her head to the music, and tried not to get lost. The Mountain Dew helped to offset the lack of sleep, and she crunched through a bag of peanut butter Combos. The familiar sights that popped up the closer she got to Ohio let her know she was heading in the right direction, and Siri agreed. She patted the dash of the cute little car. "We're almost there."
When Arabella pulled up in front of the little redbrick house on Shade Tree Lane, she immediately burst into tears. "God, if I cry any more my eyeballs will fall out. Just stop it." Sniffing hard, she grabbed her purse and scrambled out of the car. For a few moments, she stood there on the concrete sidewalk where she'd played hopscotch and jumped rope with the neighborhood kids. Her grandmother always encouraged playing outside rather than sitting in front of the TV or playing video games. The house had been a short bike ride from her parents' home and she'd spent most of her summer vacation days here when she wasn't with her parents on their trips to the beach.
///
Memories flooded her brain like a giant waterfall, splashing over into her heart.
The houses, all similar in style, were only a few feet apart, typical for an old Midwestern small town. A little square patch of grass represented the front lawn and the backyard wasn't much bigger, butting up to the neighbors' backyards on all sides. Old-fashioned as she was, her granny loved to hang clothes on the line, and Arabella remembered how fresh the crisp, sun-dried sheets had smelled.
She smiled and released a shaky sigh, remembering how during the summer the crabgrass was dotted with fluffy round dandelions and buzzing bees. Now, pesticides killed the so-called weeds that Arabella had taken to be delightful yellow flowers she could present in limp bouquets to her grandmother. Bumblebees were now on the endangered list. She recalled picking white clover and having her grandmother weave the stems into necklaces and crowns for her hair, making her feel like a princess. When she found a ladybug it meant good luck. And her finding a four-leaf clover meant she could press the lucky treasure into a book. And Granny York had possessed bookshelves stuffed with classics that brought the joy of reading to Arabella The library, one of their favorite places, was a short walk into town.
The sweet scent of honeysuckle used to cling to her clothes, and her grandmother had taught her how to pull the drop of nectar from the flower and let it drop onto her tongue. Bushes of hydrangea, still one of her favorite flowers, lined the side of the brick house. Fireflies would fill the evenings with dots of flickering light and she would awake in the morning to the sound of chirping birds and the aroma of breakfast in the air.
Now, dormant brown grass remained void of colorful weeds and bare tree branches reached toward the gray sky, but Arabella thought the stark Midwest winter still maintained a certain beauty. Hopefully, while she visited, she would see snow. She shivered in her inadequate hoodie and hurried to the trunk to retrieve her suitcase, eager to get inside and turn up the heat.
Hefting her suitcase up the worn front steps, she stopped on the wide front porch to dig around in her purse and locate her big old-fashioned door key that looked like it should unlock a castle. The late-afternoon breeze whipped around her and she swore she could smell snow in the air. After finding the ancient key, she unlocked the heavy wooden door and pushed it open.
As soon as her suitcase clunked over the threshold onto the hardwood floor, she took a deep breath and the heavy scent of baking sugar cookies wafted over her. It was so strong that she could practically taste them on her tongue. And was she just that cold, or was the house surprisingly warm?
Feeling that things were slightly odd, Arabella took a couple of steps into the foyer and leaned her suitcase against the wall. The floor gleamed and she could detect the smell of lemon furniture polish. She put a hand over the buck teeth on the horse and felt the rapid beat of her heart, half expecting her grandmother to appear, hurrying in her curious half run to greet her at the front door.